


like real people

by nebuloz



Category: The Queen's Thief - Megan Whalen Turner
Genre: First Kiss, Fluff, Getting Together, M/M, Tooth-Rotting Fluff, brief allusion to rott at the end but its not spoilery, i guess?, i have ot3 brainworms but its blink and you miss it this is about the roa boys, seriously i got a cavity proof reading this
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-21
Updated: 2021-01-21
Packaged: 2021-03-13 08:21:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28900314
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nebuloz/pseuds/nebuloz
Summary: In Roa, Costis and Kamet settle into eachother.
Relationships: Kamet/Costis Ormentiedes
Kudos: 33





	like real people

**Author's Note:**

> so many roa fics are from kamets perspective and i wanted to give my boy costis some love. to the discord, sorry this is literal months late, and huge props to [storieswelove](https://archiveofourown.org/users/storieswelove/pseuds/storieswelove) for being my beta and editor, ily mar go read their fics theyre amazing

The first time it happened, Costis almost tripped and fell down the hill on his way to work. Well, 'work' was a loose term — he was currently contracted with a local apothecary and was on his way to check their stores, but anyway.

Costis had been on his way out the door when Kamet had suddenly called him back. Costis had turned, standing in the doorframe, and Kamet had stood on his toes to pull him down for a quick kiss. Costis had been so surprised he’d barely had a chance to kiss back, and then Kamet was shooing him out the door so he wouldn't be late, barely visible flush painting Kamet's dark cheeks. Costis's own ears were practically on fire, and he had stumbled on in a daze, only finding his bearings when he nearly fell flat on his face when his foot caught on a root. 

There had always been a sort of thread between them. Costis wasn't sure he would call it romance, per se, but a something that developed between two people who had trekked cross country and almost died together. But neither of them had ever acted on it. Costis would be lying if he said he hadn't wanted to, but he was content to let Kamet lead, afraid to overwhelm him.

Costis thought about the kiss for the rest of his walk to the shop and most of his work day. The memory of Kamet's face, and the sheer confidence that must have taken to kiss Costis did funny things to his stomach, and he kept slipping into daydreams while he worked. It took a monumental effort to pull himself out and focus on his task. Being caught off guard wasn't his strong suit, though he supposed having shared the company of the king and queen for so long should have prepared him better. Alas.

Costis couldn't decide if the hours passed agonizingly slow or far too quickly before it was time to return to their little cottage overlooking the sea. Costis was uncharacteristically jittery by the time he made it back, knocking on their door as usual to announce his presence before stepping inside.

"Home," he called, hanging his bag on the row of hooks near the door and lifting one foot to pick at the laces of the boot. "Mm, welcome," was Kamet's murmured response from his desk. He sat engrossed in a pile of paper, likely letters from Attolia. Costis had just freed his first boot and looked up briefly to give Kamet a proper greeting. He never made it to the second boot.

Kamet had always been beautiful to Costis. The curve of his jaw, how his rough, slightly choppy haircut made his hair curl at his temples, the way he squinted when he was thinking. Maybe it was the kiss from that morning, but today the way the last fingers of sunlight slanted over Kamet's hair and face, made Costis’s breath catch. Kamet’s desk was situated under a western window to maximise the hours into the evening Kamet could work. Costis had pondered at first how he could focus with sun slanting into his eyes, but right now that was the furthest thing from his mind. Kamet was bathed in light from the window, eyes slightly narrowed as he wrote, pink tongue peeking through brown lips in concentration. The sun curled through his hair and over his skin, making him glow. Costis had seen Kamet like this dozens of times, but today it hit him like a spear in his ribs.

He recovered himself, realizing he was staring. His cheeks felt hot, and his heart was doing something akin to what he'd witnessed Eugenides do on rooftops. What he did next wasn't entirely of his own volition, but he would've kicked himself forever if he didn't follow through on the sudden burst of reckless affection like doves in his chest.

Costis made his way over to Kamet's desk in a few long strides, making sure to hit the squeaky floorboards so he wouldn't startle him with his sock-footed approach. (He failed to realize in the moment that one boot was still very much tied and secure on one foot, but that was decidedly unimportant). Before he could lose his nerve, he placed a gentle hand on Kamet's shoulder and pressed a kiss to the top of Kamet’s head, heart racing. He felt Kamet's shoulders tense minutely as they always did, and then relax as Kamet’s body caught up to his brain. 

"How was your day, dear?" Costis asked. 

Kamet barely reacted, besides a fond smile carving dimples into his cheeks. "Uneventful, but productive, I suppose. You have a letter from Aris..." And they fell into their usual evening routine, comfortable. If there were more touches and casual affection than usual, neither commented on it.

And so, slowly, it became a part of their routine. Kamet kissed Costis goodbye when the Attolian left in the mornings, and Costis kissed Kamet hello after work in the evening. They began sitting next to each other at dinner instead of across, and Kamet curled into Costis' side on their small couch when they finished, while Costis sketched or knit. Eventually they began sharing a bed, and converted the spare room to a proper study. Kamet still kept his desk in the living room, but now there was more space for books and scrolls and drying plants.

They didn't really talk about it. The trust between them had long become unspoken, and it was easier every day to read each other's cues and body language. Costis was content with the rhythm they were learning together; he didn't feel the need to muddle it with imprecise words. Beyond the occasional hard boundary (which often didn't need voicing with how well they danced around each other), it was almost as if it had always been this way.

\---

Kamet had the first kiss, but it was Costis who said 'I love you' first. It was a year since they had arrived in Roa, and five-ish months since that fateful morning kiss. He was tending to the small garden they had started behind the house, sandy hair growing damp with sweat as the sun beat down on them. His shoulders were starting to freckle as they had as a child. Costis's skin hadn't had so much direct exposure to the sun since he had helped on the farm, and at first he hadn't liked them. But Kamet found them charming, pressing kisses to as many possible, tracing them when they laid together at night. Costis didn't mind them as much, after that.

Kamet was sitting off to the side in the shade of an olive tree, writing and not-so-subtly ogling him; the way his arms and back flexed as he worked. He had squinted and tilted his head, looking up at Costis and calling to get his attention.

"Costis?"

"Yes dear?" This had become common, calling him dear. He enjoyed the way Kamet preened under the pet name and thus used it as often as possible.

"Remind me again which flower keeps pests away from the tomatoes?”

Costis stared at him blankly for a few moments, before letting out a snort that turned into a full belly laugh within seconds. Kamet flushed maroon, unaware of the irony of his question. Costis, still chuckling, made his way on his knees from where he had been planting marigolds around their tomato plants, to Kamet. He cupped his cheek to kiss him sweetly before pulling away.

"My dearest Kamet, how I love you."

Kamet flushed darker at this, and Costis' goofy smile grew wider. "I — and I you, Costis, but I hardly see what that has to do with tomatoes?"

Costis had only laughed fondly and kissed him again, and then the afternoon had been lost. It wasn't until later, when they were in bed, that Kamet had sat bolt upright and leaned over Costis accusingly.

"You never told me what the flower was!"

After that, the ‘I love you's' became like punctuation in their conversations. Tacked onto shopping lists, hidden in the middle of jokes and teasing, used as subtitles to their names. Costis, my love. Beloved Kamet. One of my heart. It was all terribly sappy, and Costis wouldn't have traded it for the world. Eugenides would have teased him for it, and he could imagine Irene's tight-lipped amusement and the twinkle in her eyes that gave away her laughter. The three of them had never been as verbal or expressive with one another; partly out of necessity, but mostly because their love languages were different. Gifts, from Gen, personal time from Irene, and Costis defaulted to acts of service. With Kamet it was different, and Costis hadn't realized how deliriously happy it would make him to hear confirmation of his love spoken aloud so often.

The months wore on, and their love bloomed like ivy, winding its way into the walls of their house and the ground outside it. It buried itself in them wherever it found purchase, coloring their skin and filling their blood until they were so joined that nothing short of divine intervention could dare to try and separate them, and even that wasn't guaranteed.

\---

Back in the palace, Eugenides lounged. He loved his wife, and missed Costis on occasion, but nothing a letter couldn't quell. He performed the duties asked of him, and loved Irene, and gradually grew to tolerate his attendants.

One night he was spending time with the youngest of them, going over the latest correspondence from Roa and comparing it with other reports. He had been only half paying attention — things were relatively uneventful lately. While that was terribly reassuring, Gen was still surprised at how boring it could be to be king. At a tap on his thigh, however, he unclasped his hands from behind his head and leaned forward, glancing over the passage of Kamet's letter that his attendant was indicating.

Slowly, a grin spread across his face, and he dismissed his young attendant, making his way to Irene's room.

When he showed her the letter, she smiled in that thin-lipped way she did when she was trying not to laugh. 

"You owe me Teleus' marble inkpot," she said, mirth glimmering in her eyes.

"Who knew he had it in him?" The king lamented, and started making mental plans to steal into the captains office to retrieve the object he had wagered on his poor guard and his scribe.

**Author's Note:**

> ty so much for reading!!


End file.
